


About That Guy

by starrylitme



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Super Dangan Ronpa 2.5
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Birthday Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence, Complicated Relationships, Gen, Human Experimentation, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Island Mode (Dangan Ronpa), Mental Instability, POV First Person, Post-Game(s), Surreal, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: “There's so much and so little to say.”A series of short fics from the perspectives of various characters regarding a certain someone at different points and different variations.(Written for The Hinata Project.)
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Everyone, Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru & Komaeda Nagito, Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru & Naegi Makoto, Hinata Hajime & Kuzuryu Natsumi, Hinata Hajime & Nanami Chiaki, Kamukura Izuru & Everyone, Kamukura Izuru & Matsuda Yasuke, Komaeda Nagito & World Destroyer
Comments: 20
Kudos: 135





	1. Natsumi and the Reserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata Hajime is pathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this idea randomly and thought it'd be fun to write. I hope it's fun for all of you as well. The fics this time are half the length as the ones from last year so they should be pretty sweet. As sweet as they are short.
> 
> Anyway, first up is Natsumi, the best dr3 girl. I love her. She's my girl.

The guy I’m about to tell you about is honestly nothing to write home about. But he’s got ambition, which is fucking something in a total dead space like this. Everyone else is so mopey and miserable, so fucking pathetic and sometimes even happy to keep their heads down. That bitch, Miss Satou, in particular. I can’t stand people like that at all. It doesn’t just piss me off, it disgusts me.

But Hinata Hajime? I—well I can’t really say he was all that different, because he was still a dumbass.

“Is talent really everything?” he asked one time in an actually serious tone of voice. And what the hell could I do but laugh in his face?

Still—he’s upfront even to his detriment. I’m not used to that. It’s drearily and mind-numbingly easy to throw my family’s name around to keep assholes clenched shut. I used to do it a lot in middle school. Hinata Hajime, meanwhile, apparently has no middle school experiences worth talking about. I asked. I even prodded.

All I got was several instances where he failed to get a flavor of bread he wanted because it was popular and thus often sold out. And also another time he confessed to a girl and she let him down easy. And how he still felt humiliated even though he swore up and down that the girl was nice, real nice.

I could’ve gotten more engaged with a half-dead cactus, but it was talking to this loser or suffocating in the miserable silence. And, really—it only motivated me further.

“I’ll get out of here,” I said, to him, to myself, swearing up and down. “I’ll get into the main course and with my brother and all will be fucking right in the world.”

“Hey, Kuzuryuu.” Hinata sucked in his breath, and there’s a weird discomfort to his pinched-up face. “What, exactly, are you willing to do to achieve that?”

I huff but don’t tell him off.

“Anything. Obviously. I’m a daughter of the yakuza, y’know, I’m used to committing to a loooot of horrible shit. Shit that’d make you piss yourself in fear.”

Hinata grimaced. I grinned.

“What about you?” I ask. “Although, I wonder if having a talent will really do you much good. You’re just so easy to trample. I bet even that camera whore could kick your ass without breaking a sweat.”

“I-I’m not that pathetic,” Hinata grumbled, clearly annoyed. Not enough to raise his voice. Not even enough to look at me.

“You really are so simple-minded and naive,” I lament. “Who was the fucking idiot that told you that you were fine as you were, again?”

He doesn’t answer, but his face does darken.

“If that were the case, you wouldn’t _be_ here,” I remind him coldly. “So, buck the fuck up. Stop being so meek. You and I both know you have at least some bite. You snap at me sometimes even though I very well could get you killed if you piss me off too much. And no one here would bat a goddamn eye at it.”

“It’s because of you saying this kind of stuff that makes enemies,” Hinata points this out, even though he’s at least a little tense. A little nervous. A little fucking terrified.

I laugh, smacking his shoulder and he lets out the wimpiest yelp.

“True, true. That’s why I’m stuck with you. For now.”

“...”

Hinata made the kind of face a person made when they were thinking really hard, almost too hard for their delicate skulls. Fuyuhiko would make that same face, except he’d look a lot more constipated when doing so.

“If someone just came up to you, saying they could get you into the main course... You wouldn’t hesitate at all, would you?”

“Eh? The hell kind of question is that?” It really did strike me as weird, but I never thought that hard. I wasn’t like Hinata nor Fuyuhiko. I got by just fine without being overly contemplative. “Anything that easy is obviously a trick, Hinata.”

“B-But what if it weren’t?” Hinata asks, and it’s like this that it’s clear how naïve he is. How easily manipulated and pushed around he is, even with that sometimes smarting mouth of his. It pisses me off. Just a little. “What if it really could be that easy?”

“I can’t even comprehend it,” I said simply. Except maybe my voice is a little cold because the atmosphere’s temperature has at least dropped a little. Maybe it’s a lot heavier too, the atmosphere. Right now, I feel like throwing a punch to release some of the tension. Instead, I flicked Hinata’s forehead. “That’s just not how shit works. Quit asking such inane questions.”

“Ow! You didn’t have to go that far! I was just curious!” Puffing his cheeks, Hinata’s all adorably affronted. I probably made similar faces when our father refused to answer all of my many, many questions. Because I wasn’t much of a concern. Not then. Not—really now.

It pissed me off. Especially with the thought that Hinata Hajime viewed me in such a way, too. Hinata Hajime, the only partially acceptable acquaintance I had. Even though I’ll leave him without looking back someday.

I might end up worrying after all, because Hinata Hajime really is pathetic. And naïve. He’s the kind of person that it’s really so easy to take advantage of. The kind of innocent dumbass who’d get killed once he stumbled into the wrong kind of trouble. He’s all of that—and a reserve, through and through.

“You really should look out for yourself more,” I tell him more seriously. “I won’t always be here, y’know.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He didn’t take me seriously. Dumbass. Such a dumbass.

But—I really did wonder about the other people he talked to. I wondered about what bullshit they filled his already direly stupid head with. And admittedly, I might have been concerned in a way. Maybe just because it reminded me of Fuyuhiko. Whatever.

I did wonder and I did worry. Ultimately, it amounted to jack and shit for all kinds of reasons. Maybe it’s really fucking stupid of me to ask this, but I do hope where Hinata Hajime’s involved—that he’d smarten up enough to not fall for stupid shit.

But, of course, that wouldn’t be the case.

Idiot.


	2. Yasuke and the Project

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamukura Izuru shouldn't exist, but he's my concern regardless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always headfirst into angst with these two...although last year I guess it was a little fluffier. Hhhh. I really do need more of them because of how messy and messed up their relationship is, even if it's just Kamukura detachedly attached while Matsuda is agonizing over everything. Problem children, both of them.
> 
> Warnings should be in the tags but just in case: there's mention of torture and human experimenting because, yeah. Also some mild play at strangulation. Because yeah. It's a mess.
> 
> I love them.

Once an idiot always a hopeless idiot. But, there’s more to it than that. There always fucking has to be. It’s a lot to deal with. A lot I was admittedly prepared to deal with, but a lot nonetheless. Because of fucking course, the Ultimate Hope, the Ultimate Talent, the Ultimate Lap Dog and Guinea Pig, would also be the Ultimate Chore.

Junko would laugh her ass off before trying to stab him repeatedly. It’s a good thing, then, that she’s instead going on a rampage in some other unfortunate place. It’s a bad thing that I won’t be able to keep this from her forever. Not with how enamored the old shits are at Hope’s Peak Academy with the idea of the Ultimate Symbol at their beck and call.

Although I was expected to beat out Kamukura Izuru’s more disobedient kinks when I wasn’t being blamed for them. Because what other reason could an emotionally constipated child locked in a damn cellar all day possibly have to be unresponsive?

God, the researchers are as stupid as they are inhumane. You’d have to be to sign up to be a part of this shit. What does that say about me, then?

“That while you treat me with more consideration, you are similarly stupid and inhumane,” was Kamukura Izuru’s obvious answer, blinking at me with the judgmental eyes of a dead fish.

“I don’t have a choice,” I retort, like I’ve never considered just staying in bed every morning. Just never getting up. Weak bitch I refuse to let myself be. “Besides, in my case I’m more curious.”

Because I knew Hinata Hajime. He was a hopeless dumbass. I did wonder if I could change that just with a few tweaks of his brain. I’m still not sure if I did, and staring upon Kamukura Izuru’s head scars filled me with a feeling that was more uncomfortable than anything. Honestly, I kind of wanted to throw up sometimes.

Not that I had any right to. I still made the choices, under pressure or no. There’s only so much blame that I can toss off my shoulders.

And I find myself willing to toss less and less the longer I was around Kamukura Izuru.

He was the exact opposite of Junko in so many ways and yet similar in others. Both were dreadfully and ridiculously fucking unsatisfied, and yet while Junko was a chaotic force, Kamukura was the immovable object. What a disaster it would be when those two inevitably collided.

I didn’t—want that to happen, but I didn’t know how I’d prevent it short of just terminating the situation entirely.

There were rowdy days of Kamukura Izuru where that was a very real possibility. To call that terrifying would be an understatement.

“What are the tests for today, Matsuda Yasuke?” Kamukura asks without inflection. As if those stupid tests never involved poisoning him at one point. Sometimes. Often. Worse than that. “Observations today are that your mood is steadily worsening and that you have been losing even more sleep.”

And—something a little strange does happen. Kamukura’s finger runs along one of the shadows beneath my eyes. I flinch, but Kamukura, suddenly a curious fucking child, is undeterred.

“Sleep shortens your lifespan. An early death would be inconvenient. For everyone.”

“If you died, that’d be better for everyone,” I spit back and it hurts me probably more than it hurts him. “A world where you exist doesn’t have the best chances. So, why don’t you run away never to be seen again or something? Surely haunting the mountains would be more interesting than passively lying around.”

Kamukura’s thumb presses into the edge of my scowl and it’s too easy to break. I know this guy has more than enough capability to crush my skull with just a little force applied. While I have a natural aversion to dying, being killed by him would be the least of my worries.

“Someone like you isn’t meant to exist,” I whisper, almost urgently.

“Someone perfect?” Kamukura Izuru asks dryly. So much so that it’s beyond infuriating. “Yes, I am aware. It would be so easy for me to tilt the world, yes? It would be so easy to dig my fingers in and tear this planet asunder.”

He cups my face. I know he’s being intimidating just because he has a sick fascination with my expressions. Maybe it’s because no one else is making much of a face around him. The other researchers have less life than this guy, whose head was split, emptied, and stuffed again.

“You could ruin this world if you wanted to,” I just remind him. “But you don’t want for anything.”

“No, I do not,” he agrees. “But, I have no interest in complying with other’s inane desires, either. You have nothing to worry about, Matsuda Yasuke.”

“Idiot.” I pinch his cheek. “There’s still shit to worry about. You know everything and nothing at the same time.”

“Is that so, Matsuda Yasuke?”

“Can you quit holding my face while speaking so formally? It’s fucking creepy.”

Kamukura does pull back, his posture ever prim and proper as he sits at the edge of a dinky fucking bed. In a room with no other furnishing. Just a door and a couple of security cameras for the shitty-ass researchers to ogle Kamukura Izuru from.

“You really should run away and disappear,” I found myself muttering. “Or I should kill you myself.”

I tiredly wrap my hands around his neck. I squeeze. Kamukura Izuru stares back blankly. My reflection in that blood-red gaze looks haggard.

He’s such an idiot. But he’s someone I also can’t help but care about. It’s just a crying shame I can’t make him care about anything in return.

I sigh and let go of him. Without another word, I push past him and lie down on that dinky bed.

“I need a nap, so feel free to escape while I sleep. Just. Saying. Whatever.”

I already knew he’d still be there when I later wake, but it was wishful thinking. Maybe even hopeful. I might have even dreamed of lying there forever. With Kamukura Izuru’s creepy, miserable presence. Urgh.

“Have sweet dreams, Matsuda Yasuke.”

**_Idiot_**.


	3. Chiaki and the Avatar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata Hajime-kun is a good person. I'm sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise Nanami! Well, I guess it's surprising from me considering I'm not so secretly a KomaHina shipper above all else. But since he was getting World Destroyer day, Nanami has to get SDR2 Hinata day. I'm nothing is not dedicated to my craft! That said, you can probably still hear me screaming in frustration between the lines. Hopefully, it's nothing profane.
> 
> Real talk: Nanami's an interesting character to write for me since she's in a unique situation. A lot of people just kind of make her the Stock Nice Girl and while that is what she is, I prefer a little more depth. She's definitely caught between how she feels and how she's programmed and the line between those two things is super blurry.
> 
> But I mean this is supposed to be more about Hinata, and she's just supposed to be observing him.
> 
> Huh, huh.

So, Hinata-kun definitely isn’t a bad person.

He can be a bit frantic and sensitive. He’s actually pretty fragile, I think. Probably because he’s not the most flexible. It’s a shame, but I guess that’s how some people are?

He’s still on edge around Usami-chan, and he’s still reserved in many conversations. It’s not that he’s a difficult person to talk to, because the other students seem pretty drawn to him. That’s nice to see, isn’t it? Hinata-kun getting along with everyone? If things had been like this sooner—none of this might have even happened.

But, it’s impossible to know that for sure. Maybe _she_ would have found another way to ruin everything. Maybe not. Life isn’t something you can change with the restart of a previous save file. Even though this whole thing is kinda like that, isn’t it?

It’s strange, maybe. I wouldn’t know because I didn’t exactly exist before this point. And afterwards—I wonder if I’ll exist at all.

For now, I’m gonna do my best. I think. And that means gathering hope fragments with everyone—and making sure they all graduate with the strongest bonds.

Because everyone had been friends once before besides Hinata-kun, I do keep an eye on him a little. He reminds me of a very basic warrior character. One that needs a lot of levels and nurturing to stand its ground alongside everyone else. Admittedly, putting the time into such a character isn’t terribly effective.

And dealing with people in general is a bit intimidating, I think.

But, I’m like everyone else in that I think Hinata-kun is surprisingly easy to get along with. Surprisingly easy to bounce off of. I see how others smile around him. How Souda-kun wraps his arms around his shoulders with a toothy grin. How Saionji-san beckons him to follow her with a coy laugh. How Mioda-san latches onto him with bright laughter. How even Komaeda-kun is at ease around him, bumping shoulders and talking amicably about talent.

_Talent._

Hinata-kun is fine without talent, I think. I almost say it to his face, but I decide against it. Because—Hinata-kun doesn’t even know he’s talentless. But he’s still fine. He’s still good.

“Ah, Nanami?” Hinata-kun turns to me, a wary smile on his face. “Hey, are you listening?”

I’m always listening, even when I’m playing a game. Even when focusing on my game, I nod firmly.

“Ah, right. Right. Never mind, then.”

I do pause the game, then and there.

“Is there something on your mind, Hinata-kun?”

“I was just, uh, thinking,” he mutters, and he’s not looking at me but at somewhere far away. Beyond the ocean past the pixelated realm of the simulation that he doesn’t yet know about. “When all of this ends—we’re going to just start going to class normally, huh? Although I still don’t remember my talent.”

“You’ll do fine, I think,” I say because it’s the most certain reply I can think of. Everything else, obviously, was beyond me. I did wonder how that would be for them. For Hinata-kun and everyone else. “Have more faith in yourself, Hinata-kun. You may be weak of spirit sometimes, but you’re still pretty capable. I think.”

Hinata-kun snorted, shaking his head.

“Thanks, that means a lot. I don’t know why you think that way about my spirit, though. Anyone else would be overwhelmed in this situation.” A pause. “Well, I’m the only one. So maybe, that’s wrong. Maybe I am weak.”

“No, you’re strong,” I amended. “I’m sure of that.”

“Thanks...” He doesn’t sound convinced. Waves lap at the surface and I frown.

“You’re more than you think,” I say, slowly and deliberately. “You’re smarter than you know. The world is open to you and you could grasp onto anything you put your heart to.”

“That’s...” Hinata-kun flustered, scratching idly at his scalp. I remember, then, that his avatar is lacking certain head scars. I don’t remark, I merely remain quiet. “That’s actually really straightforward encouragement, Nanami. Thanks.”

At the very least, he sounds more sincere than before, so I smile at him.

“You have friends,” I remind him. “They’ll help you through everything.”

“Or drag me everywhere,” Hinata-kun mutters but it’s with a good-natured sense of humor and fondness. “It hasn’t been long but—everyone gets along like we’ve all been together for a while.”

“Everyone’s friendly, I think,” I say. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It is. A lot of the others can be handfuls but there’s that, at least. Although they’re not always the nicest bunch...” Hinata-kun sighs. “Still, I guess I like them all pretty alright.”

“I like everyone, too. They’re good people.”

“You’re just nice, Nanami.”

“That’s—I don’t know about that.” I don’t know much of anything. Niceness. Friendliness. Openness. Affection. Bonds. I exist to observe them and to act as one of them, but at the end of the day, I will be left behind by them. And that should satisfy me. Usami-chan is looking forward to it every single day. I am, too. I’m pretty sure. “Hinata-kun’s nice.”

“I definitely don’t know about that.”

“You’re definitely nice,” I insist. “To me, to everyone. You’re a good person. A good friend. Everyone is sure to be happy that they know you.”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” Hinata-kun mumbled, cheeks an impossible shade of red. So red that it stills me for the moment.

I have no memory of a Hinata-kun before this. No memory of the person immediately before this. The Hinata-kun under a vibrant blue sky is a miracle in how he exists, considering that before. Despite all that, that void before my existence, I’m sure of my words. And of his goodness. Of everyone’s goodness. The same goodness that those who defeated her wanted to save. Were right to save. In spite of everything.

That same goodness that was to be further nurtured and blossomed upon this island, so that it may overwrite the previous system of vacant despair.

“I mean it. I really do.”

“Nanami, I—thanks.”

“Don’t thank me. Just keep doing your best. Keep moving forward. Graduate—and keep going. No matter what.”

“Nanami?”

“No matter _what_.”


	4. Makoto and the Remnants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both deserved to be saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell them, Naegi!!
> 
> And here's the next prompt which covers Awakened!Hinata who I always have to be the most creative for because you can't exactly write an entire fic about him as a character. I mean maybe you could but that'd require even more creative liberties. If I did that, it'd probably turn out extremely wild and weird. And I just love the period where the kids woke up for fic fodder because it's such a vulnerable time.
> 
> I also actually really love the original TPG trio so it's always a treat getting to write them but this is about Hinata and Kamukura.
> 
> I almost threw in them remarking about Naegi's voice because y'know, but decided against it. Lol. Well, that one will get their day tomorrow. :>

In the sparkling, glitching light within the simulation, the AI of my former classmate lamented. Tired, overworked, and exhausted, it was easy to see she really had just been a recreation all this time. I suck in my breath, and look towards the former Ultimate Hope, who was shining brightly.

Shining like the sun, eyes a passionate, burning red, the one who called himself Hinata Hajime-kun grinned.

And I smiled back.

“See, Togami-kun?” I asked cheekily. “They pulled through.”

“Some of them,” he retorted.

“Let’s not count those other others out yet,” Kirigiri-san remarked kindly. “Since they’re ready, let’s begin the shutdown.”

There was nothing to do but agree, leaving behind the simulated Jabberwock, the simulated Hope’s Peak, and the program that by all accounts was a major failure—but still worked out where it mattered.

Hinata-kun and the others were proven to be capable to overcome despair, to face the future head on in spite of everything. That was enough. More than enough.

Even if the rest of the Future Foundation refused to accept it, I’ll insist on it until the end of time. Until they at least have to bend if not outright break.

The program shut down. I woke up first, alongside Kirigiri-san and Togami-kun. Kirigiri-san helped me up, Togami-kun grumbling all the while.

“We’re not out of the woods yet, Naegi,” he pointed out. “The simulation shutdown was only the beginning.”

“I know, I know! But you could’ve said that about us escaping the second killing game! I’ve got a good feeling then and I’ve got a good feeling now!”

“Ever the insect, satisfied with just survival.” Togami-kun huffed. “While Kirigiri and I will have to do everything we can to keep the Future Foundation head from killing you for your insolence.”

“No, it was my plan, so I’ll be the one to talk to them,” I argue. “You and Kirigiri-san have done enough.”

“By choosing to accompany you on your ridiculous mission to save the remnants of despair, we’ve labeled ourselves traitors as well. Don’t be so foolish as to suggest our involvement can simply cease here.”

“Togami-kun is correct about that,” Kirigiri-san sighed, brushing back her hair. “But, it was for our former upperclassmen. For Hinata-kun and the others. No matter what happens to us now, Naegi-kun won’t regret any of it.”

“Absolutely not! Because! Hinata-kun and our upperclassmen—still have hope and a future! I won’t let anyone take that away!”

It was a decision I made without question. The second I met Hinata Hajime-kun—or rather, Kamukura Izuru-kun at the time.

“Do you truly believe you can save anyone?” he had asked, coldly and blankly. “You had failed with that woman, hadn’t you?”

“I’m willing to save anyone who wants to be saved,” I replied without hesitating. Because it was true, wasn’t it? As long as a person was willing to push through, I’d do anything to support them. I knew that with all my heart.

And, perhaps, Kamukura Izuru-kun had saw how serious I was just from whatever expression I made at the time.

All that—and I didn’t know he’d be erased by the program created to save them.

I don’t have any regrets trying to help anyone, I don’t have any regrets doing everything I could to save them—but I did wish I knew of a way to protect both of them.

Even though it was likely that, as with Enoshima-san, Kamukura Izuru-kun similarly didn’t want to be saved.

When thinking that, my steps quickened towards the pod as it began to drain. It unlatched automatically and I practically scrambled forward.

“K-Kamukura-kun! Hinata-kun!”

The person within the pod stirred, face scrunching up.

“I, I...” I can hesitate now. I can flinch as the other slowly pushes himself up. My heart’s pounding, and it’s now that I feel overwhelmed enough with everything to cry.

“Hinata-kun,” Kirigiri-san calls, calm as ever. Reassuring as ever. “Or Kamukura-kun?”

“I...” The person hesitates, too, and then, slowly but surely, mismatched eyes begin to open. One side hazel. The other side crimson. “I should not be awake as well—Kamukura Izuru should not be... Hinata Hajime—Kamukura Izuru, Hinata Hajime, Kamukura Izuru, Hinata Hajime, Kamukura Izuru, Hinata HajIME—!”

I grab his trembling hands quickly.

“Breathe, breathe. Shhh, shhhh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” I squeeze and stroke his knuckles, smiling in spite of how pale and taut they were against his bones. “You’re here. You’re awake. That’s all that matters. You’re here. You’re awake. Don’t lose hope. You still have a future.”

“Some cognitive dissonance if not collapse would have been accounted for if we had known the truth,” Kirigiri-san murmurs. Togami-kun scoffs.

“But as long as that idiot can function remotely similar to a human, we should consider ourselves fortunate, then?”

“The others should be waking soon, Togami-kun. Let’s leave him to Naegi-kun for now as we check on them.”

“Hmph.”

I barely hear their strides over heavy breathing, my own heart hammering, the other shuddering. Inhale, exhale, inhale. I mirror him thoughtlessly, and that seems to help.

“Naegi...Makoto... Right?” His voice is almost as disoriented as it is distorted, but then, that person’s gaze sharpens to focus. “Did you know this would happen?”

“I might have hoped for it,” I admitted a little sheepishly. “While I wanted Hinata-kun to live on, of course, I didn’t want Kamukura-kun to simply disappear. I’m sorry. I’ll think of a way that both of you can—”

My mouth is covered. I immediately froze.

“Sorry. Your voice, it’s...just a lot at once.” That hand is removed slowly. “The weather outside—how is it?”

“It’s cloudy,” I answer, tasting residue on my lips and ignoring it. “It’s pretty cold. But, I can take you to a window later. For now, we need to get you washed off, dressed, and... Ah. Right. I should probably say good morning since you just woke up, right? What do you want me to call you?”

“Guess.” A wry smile pulls across his lips. “You’re lucky, right?”

“Aha.” I didn’t know about that—but I knew what he meant, so I smiled back. “Good morning. Hinata-kun. Kamukura-kun. Welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back, Naegi. Thanks.”


	5. Nagito and the Destroyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They haunt me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm not sure what happened either. But that's just what happens with World Destroyer and Komaeda. I take a lot of creative liberties.
> 
> This one is the least connected to actual canon for like, obvious reasons, but I mean it's pretty difficult to write something only accurate to canon considering...what happens in canon. But the ideas are there to play with, and I can get a little overenthusiastic.
> 
> So, yeah, this is super indulgent but also still fun to write because I'm all about psychological horror. It's great stuff, especially in how it relates to Komaeda. World Destroyer's understated personality is also fun to work with in the myriad of ways you can interpret him. I should write him more and more... =w=

There has been someone haunting me lately. I couldn’t tell you who this person is, but I can’t count how many times I’ve seen them from the flickers in my peripheral. They’re haunting and familiar. A repressed trauma, perhaps, one that refuses to be buried.

I might just be crazy, haha. After all, I’ve seen that person kill those I care about over and over again. And yet it doesn’t stick. I must be imagining it, surely, there’s no way people can come back from death after all.

Death is the ultimate loss. It’s impossible to undo. Utterly impossible.

But I’ve lived it over and over happening to people who don’t even seem to notice. Souda-kun’s skull just yesterday was crushed, his head smeared across the concrete. He smiles and chats up Sonia-san like nothing’s wrong. Kuzuryuu-kun’s body was broken, arms twisted into an unnatural entanglement with his legs and ribs. He acts cool as always, arms folded behind his head and leaning back into his seat. I see flickers of red in the window.

I see the windows shatter and the classroom floor collapse, caving in and devouring everyone in sight from the smiling teacher to the strumming class representative. I blink. Everything is normal again, save for a chill that settles on my shoulder.

“I will destroy and destroy,” that person murmurs into my ear, gripping my shoulder in a secure grip. That person dangles me over the edge of a gaping maw with ease. My heart is racing. Alive. Alive. Alive. “Until you lose the will to rebuild.”

“Komaeda-kun?”

I excuse myself to go to the nurse. That person follows, and when they slam the classroom door behind them, I hear the crumbling of the building and the screams of my class. When I pause to glance back, there is no one there. All is right.

I huff.

I don’t—know who this person is. But I have been enlightened of a few things.

That they’re cold. Ruthless. Heartless. Difficult.

That they have this awful expectant gaze that should never be turned on someone like me, an absolute nobody content to the shadows.

That they fight me every step of the way. With every breath I take.

That they shouldn’t be here. That they don’t belong here. That they’re an aberration—an anomaly—an...interloper, I suppose.

Someone brushes past me, and then they pause. They make a face. A gunshot. And then they fall to the ground. There was no bullet, no gun, even, just that person’s fingers.

“I grow tired of this.”

In that hallway, which stretches and distorts into the abyss of nightmares, that person seizes my arm with a crushing force. I regard them coldly, but my heart still beats. Still hammers.

Ever despicably honest, even in this situation.

“You really are so stubborn,” they mutter, those blood-red eyes narrowing sharply as they lean in towards me. “You realize you will not win. You are simply dragging out the inevitable.”

I must be crazy, because I respond in a way that’s beyond me. Like it’s not me. At least not myself in the moment, the myself I thought I knew.

“It pisses me off. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

“That does not matter. I am still here.”

That grip tightens.

“You will not evade me forever. No matter how many times this place, these people are rebuilt, I will destroy it.”

I smile. I feel no mirth. But my heart—is still pounding.

“No matter what it takes,” this ghost and monster swears, with a determined visage that my heart cries for, that my head screams against. Over. And over. It’s so frustrating. “You understand this.”

“I can accept a lot of things,” I reply pleasantly. “My own worthlessness, the weight of my bad luck, the despicable infection of talent—but I seem to have reached my limit with this one. It’s just too much. I want to be left alone. I want it all to end.”

We are standing in ruin. My hands wrap around the other’s neck.

“If you keep bothering me, I may be forced to do something drastic.”

“Another will take my place.” Such an immediate answer. Such a simple one. I found it heartbreaking. “I exist only for a purpose. If this purpose is not fulfilled, then my existence shall be voided. And there will have to be another.”

When that person puts it that way—it sounds awful, doesn’t it?

“They will not give up on you,” the Destroyer reminds me. “You cannot block that out completely, nor will it fall into ruin like your countless worlds.”

I squeeze their neck and I’m shaking. My hand and stomach—might be bleeding.

“I-I...” I cough on my blood, and it’s beginning to hurt just to breathe. “I hate that.”

“It is absolute. It, I suppose, is their hope.”

“That’s disgusting. I really hate it.”

My knees nearly give in, but I refuse.

“It’s disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. I hate it.” I squeeze and squeeze, but the other is unyielding. Truth be told, it’s also because I’m hesitating. You see—this person would’ve have gotten in if I just tried harder to shut them out.

Isn’t that disgusting? Isn’t that despairing?

It’s overwhelming, too.

“It’s also painful,” I find myself saying. “Because they’re not as upfront and direct as you are.”

“Are you certain?” the destroyer asks, and I should be careful, lest they tear down my doubts. But I still smile, I still laugh, and I still nod.

“You can’t speak for them. You aren’t them. You’re—just an Alter Ego.”

“I could speak more for you.”

I nearly fall apart. But everything is rebuilt in seconds. The Destroyer, however, still stands with their grip on me unwavering. My own hands have gone slack against their throat.

“You could, couldn’t you?”

The other holds me steady. This has happened before. With someone who was and wasn’t this person. But, even with the Destroyer staring me down—with those eyes and that face, I find myself unwilling to recall either of them.

If I do, I’ll surely be destroyed. That’s despair, isn’t it?

Gross. I hate that.

“Komaeda Nagito.”

“You know me,” I found myself murmuring into a warm, solid shoulder. “I don’t make things easy on anyone, especially not those I love.”


	6. Those Revived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's because of them that we're all here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather than giving this fic to a particular character, I instead wrote comments from the sdr2 kids, namely the ones who 'died'. I could've done it another way but this is a much more satisfying result, lol. I'm thinking I'll focus on the 'survivors' tomorrow. I also didn't want this part to get too long.
> 
> This is so cheesy but it was also hard to write. When I got to Gundam in particular, I wanted to cry. But I thiiiiink I managed? I feel a little bad that some aren't as verbose as the others, but I still...tried. I tried my best for Hinata-kun and Kamukura-kun.
> 
> Hopefully that counts for something. :'D

It’s funny, for a boy who thought nothing of himself to mean the world to everyone else. You don’t believe me? I’m not terribly good at words, so I’ll pass on the torch in this case.

* * *

Hinata Hajime is someone who I suppose I envied. A person who accepted himself even after desiring to be someone else for so long.

“It’s because what I have is more precious than talent,” he said. When he had supposedly been chasing talent all his life.

I envied that—perhaps I also sensed it. He’s definitely a person that can be trusted in spite of his mysteries. His identity not quite being as set in stone as it should be.

I understand that, likely better than anyone. That’s why I—well.

It’s why we are friends, I suppose.

* * *

Hinata-kun’s perfect and delectable in many, many ways! Fine personality, fine face, finer a—

Cough. Cough. It seems I’ve been struck.

More seriously I suppose, Hinata-kun is a kind and adorable sort of person. He’s been through a lot but he’s still innocent. He’s someone that I’m sure Mama would adore me bringing back home.

He’s rough around the edges, but as sweet and homely as red bean paste. Truly wonderful.

* * *

Hinata’s super unreliable, but he’s motivated and considerate if nothing else. It’s honestly a little embarrassing to praise the guy, but... I do remember a bit more about him.

He was classmates with Satou. And even Kuzuryuu’s sister. I heard—that he was friends with her. With that sister. And yet, I remember Satou mentioning that he’s not the worst offhandedly when I had asked back then. I hear he blames himself for what happened. Back then.

It makes me so angry I want to cry. I’m still fighting off the urge to tell him off! But, the realization that he saw an entirely different side to that conflict—I’ve been thinking about that.

I don’t hate him. I like him a lot, actually. He’s described my photographs in a way that warmed my heart.

He may be unreliable, but I still have places I need to improve, too. So, I think the two of us are fine as long as we keep trying.

* * *

We don’t have much of a relationship but it goes without saying that I’m aware he’s a kind person. He’s close to someone I—care very much about, as well.

Truth be told, I’ve been drawn as of late to that other presence. The one called Kamukura Izuru. Someone who is very different and yet very similar to myself.

It is not very often I wonder what would have happened to myself if I was never taken in by the Kuzuryuu family. I sincerely do not believe it would have been a normal life regardless. Even now the idea of seeing myself as normal is incomprehensible.

“It is how you lived,” Kamukura would say oh so dully.

“We’re all struggling to be normal,” Hinata would hurriedly add, smile strained.

And both are true, aren’t they? I am aware—that both of them are right.

And I am grateful for many reasons that go beyond expected.

* * *

They’re both wimps and cowards, but that’s why they need to be protected. That’s what I definitely think—even though I definitely want to mess with them until they keel.

Hinata-nii in particular is still so easy to mess with. Kamukura-nii is less so, but that just makes me more determined. It’s a welcome distraction from all the bullshit we deal with beyond ourselves.

...

We really shouldn’t be alive, y’know? We’ve done way too many fucked up shit to ever make up for it, so I don’t even see the point. But, because of those two, we’re all here anyway. Because of those two, the others are trying to live. Mahiru-nee and all those idiots—even...her.

That might count for something. It might not. I don’t know. I don’t really care.

I’m too stubborn to fall behind at this point. And I might struggle, and I might have to bite the hands that get offered to me by Hinata-nii, but I—

I think we’ll manage somehow, even after we inevitably fall back down.

* * *

The person you are takes a lot to nurture and blossom, you know?! Hajime-chan has made that much clear! He’s always struggling, sometimes his arms are all wobbly like noodles! And yet, he keeps on beating that drum I got him!

We’re all struggling but making noise—and I think the louder, the prouder!

There are still days where we scream our hearts out, even to the point it blows out our throats. It’s a good thing, then, that Izuru-chan has the talents to deal with that. Him and—even Mikan-chan can help a lot. We’ve all gotten really good at supporting each other!

But, I’m also sure a day will come when we go our separate ways. It’s heartbreaking, maybe even despairing, but despite that, I won’t be alone even when on my own.

It’s fun—how we’re all so different and yet glued together by our experiences. And we have Hajime-chan to thank for that, don’t we?

* * *

It’s, um, difficult to figure out the words to say. And it’s also so...so difficult to get on your own feet. I still struggle a lot more than I probably should. It’s hard. Even now I have to remind myself where I am—who I’ve become with everything that happened.

It’s horrible, but—I still miss her. I miss Nanami-san too, of course, but—it’s horrible that I miss a terrible person, too.

“It is expected,” Kamukura-san had said. “Regardless of the circumstances, your feelings had ran deep.”

“You’re not a bad person, Tsumiki,” Hinata-san reassured me. Hinata-san reassured me, and Kamukura-san had nodded as well—even though they both hated her so much. Even though they couldn’t understand at all.

They really were so...so kind...

It’s so...difficult but...it’s worth living for.

* * *

It’s important to live and work hard every day, despite the failures along the way.

That’s always been clear but with Hinata, it’s been even clearer.

He’s the kind of guy who takes on a lot—a real athlete, even discounting Kamukura’s obvious advantages in strength. Kamukura was supposed to be unmotivated—but like hell I’d allow that!

They both need to work hard! Run until they’re high on fumes! Beginning to end!

But it’s our duty to support them. It’s my duty to guide them, since I’m supposed to be acting as a coach right?!

In the past—I may have let a lot of people down. I may have even pushed them to the brink. I won’t lie, waking up was hell, but training from hell is just par for the course, isn’t it? Gyahaha!

I’ll support them, and they’ll support us in return—we’re all a team after all.

* * *

There are few titles befitting of such a being. However, he is and always shall be the singularity. The singularity of our realm who had crawled his way out of an imprisonment of his own design. Someone who voided their existence—only to return.

Something like that could be called almost godly, but Hinata Hajime, the singularity, is as mortal as can be. He is still weak to humanity’s faults. He can be meek. He can be hesitant. He can be cowardly.

However, he still pushed through—and he is ultimately the reason that our world and our own reason was restored. To call that a feat would be inarguable.

There is—much to be grappled with. Even someone such as I can confront difficulty, but there is no greater privilege than to live and live I shall. Death is a mere afterthought—I have already died twice, fufufu.

But, I live again because of him.

For that, I...will not forget.

* * *

Ahaha, wait, it’s my turn again? Hasn’t this been dragging on for too long already? I’ve already had my moment before, too.

That doesn’t count? What are you even saying? Someone like me shouldn’t count in the first place.

I chose to die within the simulation. But, so did Kamukura-kun. Hinata-kun also chose to die when he accepted the terms for that wretched project all those years ago.

I suppose it’s only to be expected that we all remain, wretched beings that we are alongside everyone else.

...

It’s because of both of them that we turned out the way we did. I hate them, but I love them, too. I’m not like everyone else, who are all irrevocably kind and appreciative.

There’s still one other ‘victim’ that deserves to speak but she’s no longer here. Expected. But still—unfortunate, I suppose. She was quite cared about.

In her stead, I’ll make sure those two don’t falter. That their future is seized with no chance of escape. It’s not because of my own gratitude. I’m not that selfish.

Hinata-kun...and Kamukura-kun...

I do want to see how you two will shape that future.

It looks bright already.


	7. Their Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And, now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everyone! Here's the final part!

You’ve probably heard of the fucking guy already. He’s kind of a wreck—but he’s also my blood brother so I have to do all I can for him. Unfortunately, because of the other guy in his head, he’s prone to doing everything all on his fucking own. It’s beyond a hassle to deal with.

Even now, when things should be winding down, he’s mulling over a bunch of stupid shit. The Future Foundation’s plans and movements—even though we’re not exactly associated with those bastards outside of our former underclassmen—and also just the general state of the world. It’s a lot for just a team of people, and that idiot takes it on solo.

Something has to be done about it.

“Everyone in favor say I.”

“I.”

“Besides,” I mutter, adding. “We all know what fucking day it is, right? It’s a day where Hinata especially shouldn’t be working his fucking ass off.”

* * *

Hinata-san is someone who has done much for us. It cannot be overstated how much he has done. Except, perhaps, that he has done too much. It is almost—unsavory how much more Hinata-san has done compared to what is needed or even asked.

I do understand, however. Hinata-san feels especially shouldered with responsibility due to Kamukura-san, so he’s all the more motivated to act. It is admirable, even if it may be a little worrying as well.

Thus, we are to put a plan into action. Right now, I am going around and relaying this plan to the others. While I, Kuzuryuu-san, Owari-san, and Souda-san are the ones who instigated this, we will need everyone’s help.

It is without hesitation that they agree. After all, they are exceedingly grateful to him as well, even when they lack the confidence to say so outright.

It’s wonderful, isn’t it—the things that Hinata-san and Kamukura-san have accomplished.

“You would be very proud, Nanami-san,” I say to the memorial.

* * *

My soul friend really likes to overdo it, huh? Even I’m not allowed to get much of an edge in. It’s like he doesn’t see me as reliable at all!

Except, nah, I know Hinata’s way more considerate than that. I still like, flinch and stuff, y’know? At stupid things—because I can’t help at be afraid of what could happen. What has already happened.

Even now, I have nightmares over the things I’ve engineered. The suffering and screaming it’s caused. I wake up screaming, and Hinata’s always there to smack my back and help me through it. He’s not judgmental, although sometimes I wish he was, considering the shit I’ve done. We’ve all done shit, yeah, but—some of my creations are still out there.

And my soul friend’s been working to bring them all home, so to speak.

So, yeah, I may owe the guy more than my life, so it’s without saying that I have to do everything I possibly can to make this work. To help him relax for once.

Even if that other guy still scares the hell out of me sometimes—it’s all my soul friend. I’ll accept every part, no matter how piss-pant terrifying.

* * *

“Don’t ya think you overdo it?”

“You’re not the only one saying that.” A smile twists at Hinata’s lips but rather than look at me, his eyes are still on files. Just glancing at them gives me a headache. “It’s fine. I can handle it. If not, then Kamukura...”

“Must be booooring, having to do all that work,” I drone, arms folded behind my head with a huff. “I can’t even imagine what it’d be like. Then again, not exactly known for my working ethic, huh?”

Hinata laughs, but I do remember all the times I skated by. What I was willing to put up with and what I wasn’t—how old man Nidai would be both encouraging and scornful over the fact. I press against Hinata’s back, chin digging into his shoulder, and I grip his arms.

“Break. You should take one.”’

Hinata sighed—but it sounds more like that other guy. I don’t relent, even knowing that other guy could toss me off if he so wished. Hell, I’d like to see him try.

“Come on,” I urged, grinning. “Before I get the old man in here to scream at ya. If you follow me, ya won’t regret it. I promise.”

Hinata still hesitates so I yank on his arm with gusto.

“Come on!”

“A-Alright, alright!” he yelped, nearly tumbling out of his seat. “Just don’t dislocate my arm!”

I laugh brightly, victorious. A smile does curl at Hinata’s lips. Warm and fond. I think it’s kinda funny. I’ve seen a lot of men in my life—but not a lot of people who smiled like that.

It’s no wonder we all love him, huh?

* * *

I already know what they had planned. Even with the blindfold on, it’s obvious. Predictable.

“Go, go, go!” Sonia chants, holding my arm as Souda shoved me along cheerfully.

“Careful, careful!” Kuzuryuu griped as Owari simply laughed.

It’s obvious and predictable—and yet their enthusiasm was clear. They’re all chuckling. It’s like we’re all back in high school—except I’ve never experienced anything like this.

When I’m finally there, my blindfold is yanked off. The poppers go off, a bit out of sync, and of course, there’s the chorus.

“Happy Birthday!!”

The others are clapping. Grinning. Each celebrating in their own way. Mioda strumming, Saionji twirling, Tanaka flourished with hawks, Koizumi snapping pictures, Nidai whooping, Hanamura lighting up the sparklers of the cake—and I can’t help the smile that crosses my face. I don’t feign surprise, I just let the moment sink in.

“Come on, come on!” Sonia exclaims brightly. “It’s supposed to be a party!!”

Pekoyama gives me a soft smile. The impostor pats my shoulder in passing. Tsumiki touches my face, frowning as she does.

“You’re exhausted, Hinata-san.”

“That’s no good,” Komaeda hummed. “Making a girl worry about you, Hinata-kun. Even if you’re capable, everyone needs a break, Kamukura-kun.”

He hands me a slice of the cake. I laugh softly before taking a bite. Every ingredient flicks through my head from the orange to the coconut oil. In that moment, I swallow and it’s—weirdly overwhelming.

“I.” I nearly croak. “Happy new year, everyone. Even to—the people who aren’t here.”

“We did invite Naegi and the others,” Kuzuryuu informed me. “They’re gonna be running late, unfortunately.”

“But we’ll still be celebrating until then! Hanamura can just make more if we all eat it!” Owari exclaimed. “So, don’t hold back!”

“I’ve got a hell of a fireworks machine rigged up for the evening, soul friend,” Souda rambled. “Even Kamukura will be impressed! I’m sure of it!”

I chuckle softly.

“I wonder about that...”

Looking upon everyone’s faces, I feel at ease. We’re all together, all here, at the start of a new year.

_What do you think will happen next?_


End file.
